


Fallout 3 Drabbles

by kokitsune



Series: Fallout 3 Short Drabbles/Short Stories [1]
Category: Fallout 3
Genre: "freed" is used as a loose term, Baked Goods, Bobbleheads, Bullying, Canon-Typical Violence, Charon appreciation, F/M, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Uncomfortable Teacher Situation, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, no beta we die like men, who says diamonds are a girl's best friend?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26630395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kokitsune/pseuds/kokitsune
Summary: Various scenarios that revolve around the Fallout 3 universe that have bounced around my head. Feel free to private message me with requests. The female OC will not be named. The higher rating is for potential future chapters. Tags will be updated as the chapters are uploaded.
Relationships: Charon & Female Lone Wanderer, Female Lone Wanderer & Jonas Palmer, Female Lone Wanderer/Jonas Palmer, James/Jonas Palmer
Series: Fallout 3 Short Drabbles/Short Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979345
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. First Impressions

The first memory that came to mind when she thought of Jonas was of a young boy laughing in his grandmother's kitchen. The boy's dark skin was splattered with flour and his dark brown eyes were crinkled with happiness. He wore the familiar blue and yellow lined jumpsuit the other children wore with a gap toothed smile stretched across his face and it took her breath away.

Large, faceless hands pushed her further into the room and words were spoken but she couldn't recall exactly what was said. She only recalled that a dark skinned, older woman with her silver hair swept up into a bun, welcomed her with a warm smile and slender fingers gripped her smaller ones to lead her toward the kitchen counter. Her tiny body was perched onto a nearby stool next to the boy and a small ball of gooey dough was pressed into her hands.

The younger girl was adjusted so she sat nearer to the countertop and her hands engulfed around the older woman's. She was coached through kneading the dough against the floured surface with soft, encouraging words but she mostly followed the actions of the boy beside her.

"Jonas," the older woman said. "What do you think?" She motioned toward the ball of lumpy dough in front of them.

Jonas leaned over and pressed a finger deeply into the dough. He frowned as his finger came away with a wet piece still clinging stubbornly to his skin.

"Too wet," he concluded, then turned to the girl. "You need more flour. Like this!" Jonas grabbed a handful from the nearby bowl and carefully spread it across the surface in front of her. He clapped his hands together which caused a white, powdery explosion and caused her to sneeze unexpectedly.

A hand pressed against her nose to try to contain the damage but it was too late. She had already sneezed wetly across the surface in front of her which, she noted with hot red cheeks, Jonas recoiled from with a sour face. The hand dropped from her face and a napkin was quickly swiped across her face to mop up the snot.

"Gross!" Jonas cried with watery eyes which caused her own eyes to water and her heart beat painfully. "Gramma, it's gonna be my birthday tomorrow and now I won't get a sw-sweetroll!"

"Jonas!"

"I hate you!" The young girl flinched away from the angry look and words Jonas gave her. He slid from his stool and marched away into another room, metal door slamming shut behind him. Another napkin pressed against her skin, this time to erase the tears that slid down her face. Her chin was forced up to meet warm brown eyes lined with age.

"I'm sorry. It's not your fault," the older woman said in a soothing tone. "His parents haven't been around a lot and he's been so quick to anger lately. I thought having another child around would be good for him but-" a soft finger wiped away the last evidence of bugger. "You're mom and dad will be back soon. I'll make the sofa up for you, sweetie."

The kitchen and living area were in the same space just like her own parent's rooms so she had a clear view of Gramma fluffing up a pillow and spreading out a thick blanket across the sofa cushions. She was lifted from her stool and carried expertly to the makeshift bed. Her boots were unlaced and placed carefully to the side before she was tucked in with another soft blanket tucked carefully around her body.

"Sweet dreams, honey." Gramma whispered and pressed her lips against the girl's hair. The main kitchen light was shut off but the blinds leading to the main corridor were left slightly open to let a sliver of light through. The older woman wandered into her own room and shut the door behind which left the young girl to stew in her own thoughts.

She had just been drifting off to sleep when she heard a door slide open and a pair of socked feet approach her bed. Her eyes adjusted to the slight darkness fairly quickly and she was shocked to see a familiar pair of dark brown eyes staring into her own. Her breath hitched slightly, Jonas' last words still rang through her head on repeat like her favorite record.

"I hate you!"

"Are you awake?" he whispered. She thought about closing her eyes and not moving until he went away but…

"Yeah," she answered. He jerked his head in a quick nod and fell to his knees so that they were face to face. From what she could see he no longer wore the youth Vault 101 jumpsuit and was instead clothed in a pair of soft pants and a t-shirt.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I don't hate you. I shouldn'ta did what I did." His eyes flew away from hers. "I forget that other kids don't know how to bake. Gramma and I always do and I just-" he shrugged. "I forgot."

"S'okay. I get it." she whispered. "I'm sorry your birthday is bad now.. I didn't mean to-"

"No. Not your fault." Jonas said. "Next time you'll know better."

"Next time?" Her voice shook because as much as she knew of her surroundings and other things, she already knew that the boy in front of her would be someone she could never forget.

"Yeah," he smiled. "Next time."


	2. Arm Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some wonderful memories are made from terrible first impressions.

“Hey, Jo?” 

“Yeah?” 

“What time do you wanna do it tonight?” 

A scratch of pencil on paper broke the silence before he answered. 

“After Gramma goes to sleep. Like always.” 

“Okay.” 

Hours later, after a full day of classwork and a whirlwind of other activities, the duo found themselves beneath a blanket on Jonas’ bed. There were tangled limbs and hushed giggles as they each took their usual positions. 

“Ready, Jo?” 

“Yeah. Are you?” 

She let out a quiet giggle and groped awkwardly for one of his hands. 

“Ready.”

A soft, green glow chased away the darkness. Jonas blinked and grinned at his best friend as his newly installed Pip-Boy illuminated their enclosed space. They were shoulder to shoulder on the small bed with barely an inch between them. Familiar fingers drifted across the glowing screen attached to his left arm and Jonas huffed out a laugh as the girl beside him spun the dial that cycled through his vital signs. 

“So pretty,” she sighed. She let her head fall against his shoulder as she explored the Pip-Boy in a way she hadn’t been able to earlier during his 11th birthday celebration. 

“You’ll get yours soon,” he promised and let his own fingers lay over her own to still them. She smiled and let their fingers intertwine for a moment before pulling away and adjusting her position. 

“I know and I can’t wait but you know what would be even better?” 

He grinned back and raised an eyebrow just like he practiced in the mirror. 

“I dunno. What could be better than this?” He lifted the heavy metal contraption attached to his arm. 

“Jo…” 

“I’m just not sure-” 

She lunged at him. They wrestled and laughed as only they were comfortable doing with each other after so many years of friendship. 

“I know you have it,” she huffed. 

“Of course. Just gotta say the magic word.” The tease rolled naturally from his lips just like the way she fit in his arms. Her eyes gleamed from the light of his Pip-Boy along with the flush on her cheeks and Jonas imagined that he wasn’t much better. 

“Please?” she whispered. 

“Yeah,” he gulped. “Okay.” 

They rearranged themselves into a more comfortable position then Jonas reached below the frame of his bed to bring out their prize. He tore the sweetroll apart and gave half to his partner. They gently pressed the two pieces together then took giant bites of the treat. 

No words passed between them but the glances and smiles they shared spoke volumes. Another year of shared lessons, jokes and friendship behind them to be capped off with a shared sweet treat. 

“Remember the first time we did this?” she asked as she licked the last bits of crumbs from her fingers. “I had to beg my mom for the rations.” 

“Then you roped Gramma into helping you make the lumpiest sweetroll I’ve ever seen!” 

“Can it!” she pouted. “You still ate it.” 

“Yeah, course I did.” Jonas hugged his best friend closer to him, careful to drape his heavy arm around her shoulders. “Was the best present I ever got.” 

“Mmm.” The younger girl snuggled closer into his warm body as Jonas polished off the last of the bread. “I’m kinda glad about it.” She was silent for a moment. “You didn’t talk to me before then. D’you think we woulda been friends if I hadn’t screwed up?” 

“Well,” he started. “You didn’t screw up cause I made you sneeze in the first place.” He pressed a sticky hand against her mouth to muffle her arguing. “And I’m sure we’d be friends no matter what cause you’re the most amazing person ever.” 

“Yeah, sure,” she giggled. He pulled her closer for a quick hug before letting her go to pull his heavy arm to rest across his lap. It was still a bit scary knowing that he would be forever attached to the hunk of technology that would reveal his vital signs, items on his person and whatever notes he chose to upload. 

Weirder still that he wouldn’t be able to share the experience with his closest friend for another year. 

“I gotta go, Jo.” The blanket was ripped away from their heads to expose them to the cold air that cycled through the heavy metal walls of Vault 101. Jonas blinked heavily against the darkness which was still thick even with the light shining from his arm. 

“I wish you could stay.” 

“Me too. But I can’t.”

“I know.” 

“We’ve been lucky so far,” she smiled. The thrill of being caught after curfew was always an adrenaline rush but it never stopped them from their birthday tradition. Next time it would be Jonas sneaking from her room and she would have a version of the Pip-Boy that adorned his own arm.


	3. Head Over Heels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for bullying (I think?) and character injury.

Jonas dragged himself as silently as he could across the floor of the metal vent he was in. He paused as the light from his Pip-boy revealed a cool looking spider web and took a second to appreciate it before swiping it away. The metal walls surrounding him shuddered lightly which was the only warning he got before a light gust of cold air blew against his back. 

The 12 year old tucked his face under his arms to try and keep himself as warm as possible. The air conditioning only lasted a few minutes and he knew the drill by now. A soft whimper behind him, however, reminded him that the girl following him wasn’t used to it yet. 

“S’okay,” he whispered as loud as he dared. “It’s almost over.” 

“It’s so cold!” She sniffled, “Why can’t we hide somewhere else?” 

“‘Cause nobody will find us in here.” 

The air conditioning rattled to a stop and both kids let out a sigh of relief. 

“I still think I had a pretty good hiding spot. My mama will be mad if she finds out we’ve been playing in the vents. She says they’re dangerous…” 

Jonas grunted as he resumed his slow crawl forward. 

“So does my Gramma but if we don’t get caught then we won’t get in trouble, right?” 

“I guess…” 

“Hey,” he twisted his body to look back at his best friend. “You wanna win, right? Rub it in Beaty’s know it all face?” 

“Beaty says that she can talk to the walls.” She argued with a pout. 

“Well, my gramma says that Beatrice is one desk short of a full classroom,” he grinned. His friend giggled at that then shoved a hand at his booted foot. 

“And getting dirty in the vents is so much better. If I get sick I’m gonna sneeze right in your mouth JoJo.” 

Jonas wrinkled his nose at that and stuck out his tongue. “That’s not very lady-like.” 

“I’ll show you lady you-” 

“Shhh!” 

The kids froze as the familiar thunder of boots echoed in the hall beneath them. 

“I know I heard something moving around over here!!” A familiar voice shouted as the thumping grew closer. Panicked eyes met Jonas’ own but he could only bite his lip as he considered their options. They could continue shuffling away but they would have to be extremely quiet or they could stay where they were and wait them out. The group of kids they were playing hide and seek with had the patience and attention span of a fly. If they could stay quiet… 

Jonas pressed his finger to his lips and mimed lying down. The girl nodded, her own Pip-boy lighting up her face then pressed her stomach to the metal grate and laid her head on her hands. Jonas mimicked her pose. 

A laughing O’Brian sang, “Come out, come out wherever you are!” 

“Are you sure they’re in here?” Allen Mack asked. 

“Their spirits called to me-”

“Shut it Beaty,” O’Brian yelled. “You said you heard them talking here. Leave your creepy stuff outta this.” 

Jonas frowned. His heart went out to the older girl. Sure he knew that Beaty wasn’t exactly the easiest person to get along with but she didn’t deserve to be shouted at. A tug on his pants leg drew his attention to the 11 year old behind him. 

“I don’t wanna play anymore, Jo,” she whispered with tears glittering in her eyes. Jonas stared helplessly at her for a moment before motioning her to move slowly toward him. She nodded and wiggled her way closer. The arguing continued below them as his best friend dragged herself slowly forward.

Jonas gave her a quick pat on the head to calm her nerves as she dragged herself by him. She paused for a moment to soak up the touch then continued on until she was no longer within touching distance. Neither kid noticed the silence that fell across the group beneath them until it was too late. 

A harsh bang knocked beneath the metal beneath their bodies. The girl in front of Jonas gave an ear piercing shriek and collapsed in to push her hands against her ears. Celebratory whoops echoed from below and another round of harsh bangs sounded throughout the small face. Jonas grit his teeth and dragged himself forward to push his hands against his friend’s butt to get her moving. 

“Go!” he shouted. 

She wasted no time getting back onto her hands and knees to scramble further down the vent. They were almost to the bend that led into one of the Vault 101 resident quarters when a particularly hard jolt reverberated through the enclosed space and Jonas saw his friend fall face first down toward a flood of light. 

He lunged forward with desperate hands and barely managed to catch one of his friend’s boots in sweat slicked hands. The toes of his own boots caught on the lip of something which prevented him from sliding over the now open grate. His glasses fell from his face which he heard clatter to the floor beneath him but he was more concerned with the small crowd of fuzzy faces staring up at them. 

One of them reached out to tug at the girl he so desperately held on to. She slapped at the hands with a cry but another body reached from behind to pull once more at her. 

“We got you! Let go of your little girlfriend and we promise to go easy on you!” 

“I don’t care!” he cried. “Just let her go. Let me bring her up and we’ll come down, I swear!” 

“Nuh uh!” O’Brian taunted. “How do we know you won’t just hide again?”

Jonas’ grip slipped just a little bit more. “You win, okay? You win!”

“Not good enough! Get down here and then we’ll believe you.” 

The girl in his hands let out a scared whimper. 

“Fine! But you better catch her okay? Catch her and I’ll come down.” 

A flash of teeth that was stretched into a smile was thrown up at him. 

“‘Course, Jo. Who do you think we are?” 

Jonas’ gramma would shove a bar of soap in his mouth if she could hear the names he thought of them. “You promise?” 

“Promise!” 

“No, Jo! Please! Just pull me up!” 

“I-I can’t!” Sweat slid down his face and into his eyes. “They’re gonna catch you. You’ll be okay.” His nails dug desperately into the leather of her boots but she still slipped a little more from his grip. 

“Oh, for Grognak’s sake!” 

Jonas’ hands were suddenly, terrifyingly empty. A sickening snap echoed through his ears and then a pain filled cry exploded from the body on the ground. There was a flurry of activity as one blurry body pushed another. 

“What the hell! You were supposed to catch her!”

“I thought you were gonna get her!”

“We need to get the doctor!” Beaty cried. 

With a wildly beating heart, Jonas wiped his sweaty hands on his dirty pants and worked on lowering himself from the vent. He carefully avoided the curled up form of his best friend and landed with a heavy thud. His glasses crunched under his body but he ignored them to kneel next to the crying girl.   
“Where does it hurt?” he asked, brushing away the hair plastered to her face. “Please talk to me. Where does it-” 

“Don’t!” she cried out. “Don’t touch me!” 

Jonas flinched away from her with tears pooling helplessly in his brown eyes. “Okay. Okay,” he whispered. “I’m gonna get help, okay? I’m gonna get the doctor and-” 

“No,” she whined. “Don’t leave me!” 

He looked helplessly around but the other kids were nowhere to be found. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he said weakly. “I don’t-” 

“What in God’s name is going on over here?!” 

Jonas looked up and felt a wave of relief rather than the usual dread at seeing Alphonse Almadovar looming over them. Jonas wasn’t sure how old Alphonse was but he was an adult with some kind of supervisor job and he was Jonas’ ticket to fixing everything. 

“She needs help! I don’t know what’s wrong but I think she hurt her arm or her face or-” 

“Alright, calm down.” Alphonse knelt next to Jonas so he faced his friend’s tear stained face. She had quieted to soft pants as the man murmured comforting words to her. He felt a stab of something like anger as she reached out a shaking hand not for him but Alphonse who grasped it gently in one of his own. “Go get the doctor,” the man ordered. “Tell him her right arm needs attention and bring a bottle of water.” 

Jonas chewed on his lower lip. “She doesn’t want me to leave. You go and get the doc. I’ll stay here and-” 

“I wasn’t asking,” Alphonse interrupted. “Go and get the doctor and water unless you want your friend to suffer even more than she is now.” 

He bristled at that. “Listen here-”

“Jo,” his face whipped toward hers. “Please. Go. Do what he says.” 

“But-” 

“Every minute you dawdle is a minute more she’s in pain,” Alphonse drawled. 

Jonas stood and took a step away. 

“...Aright.” 

“Wait. I think these are yours?” 

Jonas turned back to the fuzzy forms in front of him. Something was held out to him and he grabbed it automatically. He fit the familiar frame of his glasses back onto his nose and was treated to the fractured, yet clear view of amused greeny-brown eyes staring back at him from a tanned face. Even on his knees he's taller than me, Jonas thought with another flash of anger. 

“Run along now. Remember to get that bottle of water, boy.” 

Jonas let his gaze flick to the pained girl on the floor but her eyes were firmly planted on the man still holding her hand. 

Great.


	4. Pinky Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonas gives her a part of his childhood and makes a promise that he whole heartedly intends to keep.

The trek to the medbay was familiar to Jonas. He’d been there for one thing or another throughout the years either because of various injuries or genuine curiosity. He was usually calmed by the low beeping of the machines scattered around the large room and the clean smell of antiseptic. The young boy even enjoyed the calming presence of the Vault’s only doctor, an older man who always had a lollipop hidden up his sleeve for his favorite and unofficial ‘assistant’. 

It was the first time, in a long time, that Jonas felt uneasy entering through the metal door. 

He clutched at the stuffed bunny in his hands just a little harder as he made his way to the far left corner of the room where a white divider had been set up to hide his best friend away from anyone that could walk in. Jonas relaxed as he realized the area was empty except for who he was there to see. He peeked around the screen to see that she looked to be sleepfing. 

A frown tugged the corners of his mouth down as he noticed how small she looked on the adult sized medical bed. The lower half of her right arm, forearm he corrected, was covered in a white cast and was flung across her stomach. The Pip-boy on her left arm was resting at her side. 

Jonas fidgeted slightly before moving closer to tuck the bunny under the thin blanket that covered her body. He couldn’t resist touching the skin of her cheek lightly before turning away to let her rest. 

“Jo?” 

He paused then glanced back to see half lidded eyes staring into his own. She gave him a wobbly smile that had him retracing his steps to stand beside her. 

“Hey,” he grinned. “How ya doing?” 

“Okay…” she gave a slow wiggle of her fingers. “Doesn’t hurt so much anymore.” 

His grin fell. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I brought you something.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Look.” He reached over and pulled the stuffed animal free from the blanket to hold him in her eyesight. Her eyes widened and the smile on her face brightened the room like nothing else. 

“Mr. Snuggles!” she cooed. 

“Reporting for duty!” Jonas quipped as he carefully eased it under her injured arm. “He’ll get you feeling better in no time.” 

Her eyes darted to his own. “He’s not the only one. I’m so glad you’re here, Jo.” She played with the bunny’s ears for a moment. “I’m sorry we lost. I didn’t mean to fall and-”

“No,” he said. “Don’t- Please don’t. We shouldn’ta been in the vents and I’m sorry I made you come with me. We shoulda hid in the Atrium like you wanted. We can do that next time” 

“Pinky promise?” 

“Pinky promise.” 

Jonas moved to the other side of the bed so he could link pinky fingers with her. An unbreakable promise which they only had a few of. 

“Thanks, Jo,” she muttered. She let go to clutch Mr. Snuggles closer. “He smells like you!” she giggled. He could feel the heat spread across the dark skin of his cheeks as she hummed happily. 

“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone where he came from, okay?” A 12 year old still sleeping with a stuffed animal? It was bad enough he wore glasses but the fact that he couldn’t sleep without Mr. Snuggles would just be asking for trouble. The fact that the stuffed bunny had seen him through tough nights filled with his parents arguing, lonely sleepovers at his Grammas and every childhood secret he whispered into its long ears didn’t matter when faced with the judgment of his classmates. 

His heart pounded as her smile slipped slightly but she nodded. “Alright,” she whispered. 

Jonas was lost for words as he watched her playfully mess with the bunny’s ears and stroke it’s soft body. She pressed it once more to her nose before relaxing against the bed. “I’m gonna be going back to my room tomorrow.” 

“I know. The Doc said you’d be skipping lessons for a few days. I’ll take some extra notes for you.” 

“S’okay. Eddie said that he would bring me his notes and my homework.” 

“Eddie? Brotch?!” 

“Yeah.” 

Anger flooded through him. She was his best friend so why would dumb Edwin Brotch bring her notes and homework? Was it his stuffed bunny she held on to? No. “He has terrible handwriting.” Jonas argued. “I’ll make sure to print extra careful and fill you in on everything and your parents like me better so he can suck on a box of InstaMash and-” 

“Okay!” she giggled as she smacked him with the bunny in her hand. “Okay, Jo, you can bring me my homework and stuff. Gosh.”

“Always, no matter what, I’ll be there to help you. Only me. Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.”


	5. Birds of a Feather...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonas takes a test which leaves him uncomfortable with the results in more ways than one.

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap._

He waited a second for another tap to hit the foot he had looped behind his right chair leg but it never came. Jonas hunched over his test paper to find the answer he had circled around then glanced up at the teacher who was circling the classroom. The foot that touched his own retreated until the teacher completed their loop then returned to their resting spot against him.

Jonas licked his lips then carefully rocked his foot twice.

_Question 4._

_Answer 2._

That same foot gave him a quick rub in thanks then disappeared. At 16 years old, Jonas Palmer had to actively think of terrible things to keep the stirring in his pants away. _Gramma in her bathrobe… Powdered eggs… Ma… Pa…_ It was a wonder that the pencil he held didn’t snap at the thought of his recently dead parents.

It had been a year since they were reported as dead, yet, it still felt like yesterday.

Sure he had spent a majority of his childhood with his grandmother, but they were still a positive influence in his life even if they weren’t around a lot. They held important jobs, he knew, even if he didn’t know exactly what they did but they had to have made a difference if the sympathetic, yet, knowing looks thrown his way held any merit.

They had died with honor is the only concrete fact that he could gather and it was made very clear that that was all he would be privy to.

Something sharp pressed against his back and brought him to the present. “-your tests on my desk and then you can go. Remember to do your assigned reading and worksheets,” the teacher droned. “The G.O.A.T is right around the corner and it pays to prepare! Some of you are destined for great things.” He paused, eyes darting to his obviously favorite students which, Jonas noted with embarrassment, included himself. “Others will be the stepping stones to their greatness. See me if you have any questions. Dismissed.”

Jonas waited until most of the students had passed through and to see if the person behind him needed any more help. He chewed on his pencil then erased some answers only to remark the same ones to pass the time. When he felt he couldn’t dowdle any more he rose to hand in his test. His paper had just been placed when it was immediately snatched up for perusal.

“Hold on.”

He froze a step away then turned to receive his fate. Only one other student remained, he noted, who seemed to be completely absorbed in their work that they appeared to not be aware of anything else. Jonas shifted uneasily as his teacher’s eyes drifted from the test in front of him and up Jonas’ body at a leisurely pace. His skin prickled at the attention but his eyes never wavered from his teacher’s face.

“Did I pass?” he asked and was thankful his voice didn’t shake like his bravado.

“Yes, but you did get two questions wrong.”

“2 out of 15 is pretty good,” Jonas answered and mustered up a grin. “Better than good.”

“But not perfect and if there is one thing I know about you, Jonas,” the other man leaned back in his chair with his legs spread in a manner that made Jonas feel uncomfortable. “Is that you love perfection.”

Which was true. His brain searched at lighting speed for what questions and answers he wasn’t sure of but blanked when faced with the knowledge of his inadequacy. Of all the things Jonas could control in his life, his grades were the only constant he could rely on and was based solely on his ability to soak up the information given to him and regurgitate it to answer questions predetermined by previous Vault teachers. He opened his mouth to say as much when a stapled stack of papers was slammed on the desk between them.

“I’m done!” the student chirped. The zipper of her jumpsuit was pulled down more than the student code called for with a hint of her supple breasts revealed to whomever dared to look. Which definitely included their teacher, Jonas realized with gritted teeth. “Are you grading them now?” she asked while batting her eyelashes. “Or are you still going to post the grades tomorrow?”

“Oh-uh…”

“Great! Then Jo and I will leave ya to it!” She slithered her arms around Jonas’ own and hauled him toward the classroom door. Their Pip-Boy’s clanked as she dragged him free and he hadn’t realized how tense he was until they were several hallways away. He stopped then dragged her close to drag a deep breath in to wash away the smells of the room they had previously occupied. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s okay now.”

He stood about a foot taller than her which had never been more plain than now with the top of head tucked carefully below his chin but her assurance made him feel 10 feet tall, invincible even as he felt helpless only a few minutes ago. “He was just being a perv,” he sighed. “I’m fine.”

“Alright. Maybe hold onto me for a bit longer? Ya know,” she muttered. “For me?”

“Yeah. Okay. For you.”


	6. Alpha and Omega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonas, an Alpha in Vault 101, recalls an incident with his best friend, an Omega.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics scenario. :)

One of the worst things about living in Vault 101 was the smell. There was a constant mixed scent of lemon and antiseptic that just made Jonas Palmer’s nose tingle unpleasantly. It was supposed to neutralize the mixed smells of Alphas, Betas and the few Omegas living in such close quarters but all it did was cause him to wrinkle his nose and sneeze periodically throughout the day.

He was the only one who hadn’t adjusted to the neutralizer and the one time it had been lowered in an effort to accommodate him, a riot had nearly happened. Alphas had growled and postured at each other which caused the Omegas to pump out various pheromones that added more fuel to the fire. It took every single Beta along with some harsh commands from the Vault’s head Alpha to wrangle everyone back into order.

Jonas was 14 when the incident occurred and two years later he still groaned aloud at the thought of it. It wasn’t even because he was the cause that some of the residents _still_ couldn’t look each other in the eyes or seeing various couples reclaiming their bonds in the halls without a stitch of their uniforms on.

No.

What really caused his dark skinned face to flush red with embarrassment was that his first thought and action was to find his best friend then shove her in the nearest room with one door _then_ post himself outside like the knot headed Alphas they always poked fun at. He had known _exactly_ where to find ~~his Omega~~ her and he was incredibly thankful that she had been alone because he wasn’t sure what he would have done if she hadn’t been or, heaven forbid, with an Alpha.

Even with his Alpha instincts kicked into high gear, Jonas couldn’t forget the look on her face as he stalked toward her with the single minded objective of hiding her away where no one else could ever touch or look at her ever again.

Her eyes were large, almost liquid like, beneath the fluorescent lighting and the smile that started to curve her lips froze as her nose twitched to take in the heightened Alpha pheromones he was flooding the room with. Jonas had growled lowly with satisfaction as she submitted immediately. She let the book she had been holding fall to the floor and tilted her head to the side to show her smooth, unclaimed neck.

Jonas reached out, running on pure instinct, to cradle her head then leaned in close to drag his nose from the base of her neck to the top of her hair. He’d yanked her body close to his own, still flourishing into the plush Omega body he would know today, then grasped her wrist in an iron grip to drag her from the room.

She hadn’t protested or spoken a word as he dragged her out the door and down the hall. He had poked his head into a few rooms until he was satisfied then pushed her gently through a metal door that led into a small utility room with a small sink, turned over bucket and shelf full of what looked like blankets.

“Stay,” he’d ordered then closed the door and stood resolutely in front of until one hour later when the familiar scent of lemon and antiseptic flooded through the halls without mercy. Jonas had sneezed himself silly until a heavy cloth was pressed against his nose which was scented heavily with the familiar sweet fragrance of his Omega favorite person.

His black framed glasses were slipped from his nose as she lifted another part of the cloth to wipe at his watering eyes and soft comforting coos filled his ears. He hardly remembered being led to his room and tucked in beneath the familiar blanket but he absolutely remembered his best friend blushing every time she saw him after that.

The entire incident had been officially written off as an air filtration error by the Vault’s head alpha and no one questioned it. Only Jonas and a few select Vault techs new the truth but the damage was irreversible. His best friend couldn’t look at him without an infuriatingly adorable looking blush spreading across her face and Jonas had to fight like his life depended on it to prevent his body from reacting in an incredibly, ahem, _unfriendly_ manner as a result.

So, at 16, Jonas was incredibly lost on what he should do and he definitely wasn’t going to as his Gramma on how to proceed because where could he even begin to-

A sharp pain smacked against his knuckles which jarred him back to the present and the test that was in front of him.

“Jonas!” a gruff voice growled at him. “You have been staring at question 10 for 20 MINUTES!” Another whip of a ruler slapped smartly but this time it missed his knuckles and landed on his desk. “If you don’t pick one then I’ll pick for you!”

Another Alpha might’ve stood up to their full height in challenge toward the older man or torn up their test in a show of dominance. Another Alpha probably would have circled a random answer without breaking eye contact. Jonas, however, let his eyes fall back to the two page test in front of him, waited five glorious seconds, then carefully moved his pencil in a slow circle around his chosen answer.

He then shuffled his papers into order, lifted himself from his chair and cautiously maneuvered his body around the other Alpha’s to the desk tucked away in the corner of the classroom. He placed his test delicately on top of the messy desk then briskly walked from the classroom.

He had an Omega to find.


	7. Patience is a Virtue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James has always been a patient man and he will remain so to get what he wants.

James considered himself to be a patient man which had been tested time and again throughout his life. 

In the Capital Wasteland, the progress he’d made with Project Purity had been earned with years of taking two steps forward and five leaps back. He’d bled and fought for every scrap of information or technology he could find, while working alongside a mixed team of hard assed Brotherhood of Steel soldiers, anxiety filled scientists and his beautiful, brilliant wife Catherine. 

Losing his wife while gaining a wailing baby girl then leaving his life’s work behind in a hail of gunfire and explosions had stretched his sanity thin but even then he’d kept his head on his shoulders. 

Paladin Cross, one of the Brotherhood’s best and brightest, had offered him her protection wherever he needed to go next which he accepted, then put her through hell as they traveled day and night until they reached the settlement called Megaton. Staying the night with the Irish bastard Colin Moriarty in his saloon was one night too long. James had never wanted to throttle someone more but, after a few drinks, his patience won out and the trio left at first light without pissing off the town’s sheriff. 

Gaining entrance into the sanctuary of Vault 101, however, was another thing. 

The Overseer, Alphonse Almodovar, was a stubborn man to negotiate with but James had talked his way through tougher situations and this time his daughter’s livelihood was on the line. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. In the end, however, it was pure luck that gained him entrance. The vault’s current doctor passed in the middle of the night and wasn’t it just handy that James showed up? 

The baby girl in his arms screamed as an alarm began to blare and the screeching of the huge, solid steel door slid open to reveal a handgun wielding welcoming party covered head to toe in kevlar. His weapons were confiscated and his crude armor was stripped from his body until he was only left in his underwear. He wasn’t sure if his guards looked away to preserve whatever modesty they thought he had or to avoid the scars that littered his body. 

Only Jonas Palmer, the Vault’s only medical assistant, hadn’t averted his eyes once. Doe brown eyes behind wire framed glasses had practically devoured every bruise and dip with awe. The kid couldn’t have been older than 18, yet, he’d poked and prodded at James’ body with skill that spoke of years of practice. 

James’ mind whirred with possibilities as he considered the dark skinned man in front of him. They hadn’t exchanged any words that weren’t related to his health or that of his daughter but he attributed that more to the guards that still surrounded them in the Vault’s main medical office than any nervousness from Jonas. 

James was going to be there for the long haul, however, and he was nothing if not patient.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on Tumblr[ threewayfail ](%E2%80%9Dthreewayfail.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D)


	8. Shotgun Included

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lone Wanderer has something special she wants. She just needs the right amount of caps...

A young girl with short, choppy brown hair breezed into Megaton with as much grace as a tornado. For a minute, Lucas Simms, self appointed sheriff and mayor, wondered if the girl's home was on fire. When she practically bowled him over, startling bright green eyes fixated on her house, he experienced a dumbstruck moment of how true his words might be. Maybe he should also add psychic to his already long list of talents? He followed her, just to make sure.

Once he reached her house he held up a hand to knock, stopped at the sound of a crash, and instead just burst through the unlocked door. Hand on gun, he assessed the situation with experienced eyes and for the second time in five minutes his eyes widened in shock. 

A large pile of anything and everything was in the middle of the relatively large living room: an arsenal of weapons, boxes of ammo, pieces of clothing and even kitchenware poked out from the heap. A plastic ball managed to escape and rolled to a stop in front of Simms booted feet.

"Kid?" he called out hesitantly and when he received no answer he took it upon himself to look around. He was climbing the stairs, rifle in hand, when a loud curse came from one of the rooms. An object went whizzing by his head and landed with an ominous crack on the pile downstairs. Peeking into what seemed to be the bedroom, Lucas found the kid on the floor on her knees, reaching beneath a neatly made bed with an outstretched arm. "Looking for something?"

The Lone Wanderer let out a startled yelp and banged her head against the metal frame. "Goddamnit," she swore and rubbed at the back of her head. "Simms what're you doing here?"

"Saw you whirl in here like your house was on fire. Thought I'd make sure that wasn't the case." He offered her a crooked grin and leaned against the door frame. "Glad to see I was wrong, but what the hell are you doin'?" The girl's pale cheeks flamed red and she avoided his gaze.

"Nothing much, just some tidying up." She turned her face towards him then, all embarrassment gone, and gave him a once over. "Say, you wouldn't by any chance want to buy anything, would you?" Simms raised an eyebrow and looked over his shoulder at her pile of crap.

"Honey, I got all I need right here." He patted his rifle. "Looking to make a quick cap?"

"Yeah, I found something that I desperately need, but I don't have enough caps to get it."

"So you're going to sell all of this?" 

She nodded her head, eyes glittering with determination.

"I need to!" 

The sheriff let out a heartfelt laugh and slapped his thigh.

"Girl, you are the definition of determination! You know it's going to take all day to haul all this stuff around town, right?"

"Well…"

"Even that fancy Pip-Boy of yours can't handle all this." She nodded, eyes drifting over her now empty room. She fidgeted idly, rubbing the bottle cap she had unearthed from beneath her bed.

"I know."

Simms gave a soft smile to the girl before turning his back and swaggering down the stairs. He heard her scramble to her feet and jump from the second floor to land on the first with a 'thump'. The mayor took one last look back, amused to see her already filling her Pip-Boy to the maximum weight, and headed out.

"Be sure to come and show me what it is you so desperately need when ya get it." He called and shut the door firmly behind him. The thought of helping her came and passed in an instant; he had enough things to worry about at the moment. Eyeing a leaking water pipe he let out a sigh and headed toward the Water Processing Plant.

\------------------------------------

Lucas Simms had been right. It had taken one whole day and the better part of the next before the Lone Wanderer had sold every last item. As a result, Moira was happier than ever with her pile of what most people considered 'seriously misunderstood devices' and Moriarty had enough alcohol to run three bars. Wolfgang's reaction was priceless; the caravan owner had almost had a heart attack at the selection of 'treasures' he could choose from. In the end, though, the Lone Wanderer was just a few caps shy of her goal amount. She had nothing else left to sell.

"What else…" she muttered to herself. She had a few Stimpacks left, but she needed those for her journey back across the Wasteland; same with her armor and remaining weapons. Her gaze traveled over the atomic bomb sitting at the center of the town. Too bad she had already deactivated the thing; she could've used the caps. 

Too bad I did the job for free… Well, she had gotten a house out of the deal along with her citizenship in Megaton. Wadsworth, too, even though he wasn't good for much but a haircut and some smile worthy jokes every once in a while. 

Wait a minute! 

Wadsworth!

The young girl made another wild trip back to her house, not really caring about the odd looks she got from the locals. They already think I'm the 'Hero of the Wastes'… When she arrived at her home Wadsworth was floating serenely in the middle of her now empty livingroom.

"Good day, Madam!" He greeted in a slightly accented voice. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I would like some water, Wadsworth."

"Certainly, Madam! Here you are!" She repeated the same commands over and over until she had run the poor machine dry.

"I'm sorry, Madam," he droned. "But it seems my precipitation levels have run perilously low. I'll need time before I-" The 'Hero of the Wastes' left before he could finish, purified water safely in her Pip-Boy.

\------------------------------------

Lucas Simms stood at the gates of Megaton with one hand on his rifle and the other holding a cigarette. He took a slow drag, savoring the flavor of pure tobacco and the last of the cartons the kid had given him some time ago. He had been pleasantly surprised at the present, the girl saying that she had come across it as she was leaving her house.

"Thought you woulda sold it for the caps," he had commented. She had shaken her head, an alluring sparkle in her eyes.

"I'm sure I'll run across some caps in the desert. Next time I come back, I'll show you what I wanted to get!" 

That was over two weeks ago and she had yet to come back. No matter, he had become used to not seeing her for months at a time so a couple of weeks was almost nothing in comparison. Still, he was curious as to what had gotten her so worked up. Must have something to do with her old man, he mused. Last time she looked that damn determined was when she managed to get Moriarty to spill the proverbial beans about him.

His thoughts were broken as the grating sound of the gates opening caught his attention. The cigarette that had been dangling from his lips fell and rolled away. He rubbed a dirty hand across his face, over his eyes, and wondered if the heat had finally gotten to him.

"Simms!" Nope. He watched the Lone Wanderer practically skip towards him, a breathtaking smile on her face and large –was it a man?- following obediently behind her. In a familiar show of emotion, the young girl tackled the older man in a hug that left him gasping for air.

"Hey kid, how's it going?" he wheezed, still staring at the ghoul behind her.

"Great! I want you to meet someone! His name is Charon." She motioned towards the ghoul standing behind her with joy. The sheriff gave a stiff nod which Charon acknowledged with a simple inclination of the head.

"Is-Is he what you wanted to buy?"

"Yup! I freed him from Ahzrukhal in the Underworld."

"Under- You mean, you went down to 'Ghoul City' for him?" She nodded like it was completely logical for a nineteen year old girl armed with nothing but a handgun and assault rifle to travel across the wastes and back with a ghoul.

"He even comes with his own shotgun!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I wrote this WAY back in 2010 on FanFiction.net and it drags up all kinds of feelings for me. Charon will always be my favorite Fallout 3 companion and he saved my ass so many times (he also dragged it into the fire a few times by running guns a blazing into a Super Mutant camp so...)  
> Anyway, I tweaked it a bit to get rid of a few things that bugged me but it remains relatively the same. I hope you enjoy. :)


	9. Trouble in Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lone Wanderer would do anything to complete her collection. Taking on everyone in Paradise Falls? Piece of cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of suicidal thoughts and explicit violence. This may not be the story for you if you are sensitive to these topics.

Sarah frowned as she twirled on her father's office chair feeling incredibly bored. She stopped as soon as the door to the infirmary opened and revealed Jonas, her father's assistant. The tall, dark skinned man never lifted his gaze from the clipboard in his hands and Sarah could swear the man was muttering to himself. Her father stepped in just a few seconds after, keying information into the data pad he was holding, but stopped to smile kindly at his daughter through the glass.

The raven haired little girl waved in return but stayed seated as her father said something to Jonas before entering his office.

"Hello, sweetie, how are you today?"

"Fine," Sarah replied. Her father raised an eyebrow and folded his arms.

"You don't seem fine. Want to tell me what's wrong?"

"I'm bored," she answered and then flushed with embarrassment. She hated sounding like a whiny little kid and tried to act as grown up as possible.  _ I'm almost eight after all…  _ Her father looked amused, though, and tapped a finger to his chin.

"Well, why don't you go play with Amata?" He suggested and almost laughed out loud at his daughter's sour look. Sarah hated the Overseer's whiny daughter almost as much as she hated the wannabe bad boy Butch DeLoria. "Okay, then, let me think… Alright, how about staying here for the day? Jonas and I aren't too busy so it shouldn't be a problem." Sarah reluctantly agreed, rationalizing that it would probably be just a bit more interesting to spend the day in her father's office than her bedroom.  _ And it certainly beats hanging out with that arm clinger Amata. _

So Sarah spent the rest of the day doing absolutely nothing. She listened to Jonas and her father talk about medical theories and interesting cases that they've had over the years. Both men tried to keep her as entertained as possible, but by noon they had an emergency patient to tend to.

"Can I come?"

"I'm sorry, honey, but it's too dangerous for you. I don't know how someone could be so careless," he muttered as he hurriedly packed a medical case.

"Radroaches are tricky things," Jonas mused. "They're more of a threat when they travel in groups. Officer Gomez is lucky he got away so easily."

"How did Radroaches get inside of the Vault? I thought they only existed on the outside." Jonas looked uncomfortable at the question and exchanged a look with Sarah's father that piqued the little girl's interest. Instead of answering it, however, her father merely ignored it.

"I'll activate the robot, Professor and set its defenses." Jonas said and stepped out of the room.

"We shouldn't be too long, honey. From what I understand Officer Gomez's injuries aren't too serious. Would you like me to get someone to stay with you?" Thoughts of an annoying little brunette wandered through her head and prompted her to emphatically shake her head.

"Thought not," her father smiled. "I know! Play with this until we get back, okay?" He reached into one of his desk's drawers and pulled out a small plastic figurine. He gently set it into the child's outstretched hands and smiled as his daughter stared at the object with fascination. "It's the medicine bobblehead Jonas gave to me several years ago for my birthday." He explained. "Certainly brings back memories."

"Are you sure you want to be wandering down memory lane?" Jonas called from the other room. "You might end up getting lost."

"Never would tell me where he got it though," her father went on.

"What's life without a little mystery?" Jonas said as he wandered over to the metal work desk. He glanced down at the figure and flicked a finger at the large, blond head. Sarah watched with even more fascination as the head began to bobble back and forth. The young girl carefully set the toy down and continued push at the head. Both her father and Jonas watched with amused smiles as Sarah grasped the little man by the legs and proceeded to make it 'jump' across the desk.

"Be careful with it okay, sweetie?"

"See ya sport!" Jonas ruffled the young girl's hair and followed after his mentor out of the room, grabbing the medical kit as he went.

Several Years Later…

A young woman lay sleeping on a squeaky metal bed and inch thin mattress. A beam of sunlight broke through the metal shades bolted onto the window and hit right on her closed eyelids. Her lips pulled down in a grimace as she made the unwelcome transition to consciousness and her surroundings came into focus. Sarah shifted onto her side and was just about to fall back asleep when Wadsworth, her graceless metal butler, floated into her bedroom.

"Good afternoon! I wasn't aware that you had returned. It's good to see you, Madam!" The butler's words were slightly accented, programmed by his previous owner, and never failed to annoy her.

"I'm trying to sleep, Wadsworth. Shut up."

"I'm terribly sorry, Madam! I'll leave at once! Thank God…" It took the butler a good five minutes before he actually did, though, because at every turn he risked knocking into either a metal desk or filing cabinet that took up a majority of the space in the small room. The bed itself was a tight fit and took several room arrangements in order to make it feel natural when she had first acquired the house.  _ Sure,  _ the young woman thought,  _ every other fucking room is more than twice the necessary size, but the one room I spend the most time in has to be the size of a damned broom closet! _

Still, it comforted her somewhat that there was only one entrance and an impenetrable window; it minimized the number of possible threats. Should there be a fire, however, she'd have to practically break through the five inch thick metal walls or rip out the metal shades covering her window.  _ I suppose I could just throw Wadsworth through it,  _ she mused.  _ Damn thing probably weighs a ton… _

A loud crash resonated from downstairs which Wadsworth rapidly apologized for and Sarah groaned at. Her fingers itched for the shotgun strapped to the bed frame, but she resisted the sweet temptation of blasting the robot until it was just a smoking pile of scrap metal and bolts. Instead she lifted herself up and swung her legs over the side so her toes hit the cold floor.

"Sonovabitch," she grumbled and changed from her modest sleepwear quickly. Sarah had learned early on that there were pros and cons to dressing heavily in the Wasteland. The pros were that it offered extra protection from both enemy attacks and the sun, but it was difficult to carry many items without the proper training. So, she settled for a well-rounded medium.

She trusted a pair of sturdy boots, well worn pants, thin shirt, long sleeved coat, and duster hat to get her through the dangers she would undoubtedly run into. Sarah ran a brush through her waist long hair a few times and then tied it back, leaving a row of bangs to fall just above her eyes. She then grabbed her Chinese Assault Rifle and slung it over her shoulder before exiting the room and descending the stairs.

She was surprised to see nothing broken when she reached the first floor and eyed Wadsworth with suspicion as the machine floated quietly near the refrigeration unit. After engaging in a staring contest with it, Sarah rolled her eyes and double checked the supplies she had stored in her Pip-Boy. She had enough purified water, ammo, and health to last her for most of the trip, but would most likely have to re-stock from one of the caravans along the way.

Sarah switched to another screen which showed all of the locations she had visited or knew of. There were quite a few dots scattered all over the Wasteland map, but she searched for one location in particular. After punching in a few coordinates she let her arm fall back to her side and left without a word of good-bye to Wadsworth.  _ Only reason I keep the damn thing around is for the water or else I'd break him down and sell the pieces to Moira _ . With that cheery thought in mind she locked up her house and strode purposefully to the gates of Megaton.

\-----------------------------------

"They're all like, 'blah blah blah, what's wrong with that girl?'".

"Look, Bittercup," Sarah practically snarled. "I have better things to do than talk fashion so leave me alone!" Bittercup hardly faltered in her monologue.

"That's what they always say. 'Blah blah, Bittercup you need to pay attention when you're on patrol.' Like, what, I'm supposed to stop slavers?" The brunette looked up at the girl with a smug smile. "Ever wonder what it'd be like to slit your wrist? I watched someone die once so I'm an expert on death and so are many of my friends. Now that the Mutants took them..." Sarah wondered how much of a problem it would be if she just cut off Bittercup's head right then.  _ I'd probably be doing this whole place a favor.` “ _ Unless someone can figure out how to rescue them," Bittercup said and glanced hopefully at the Lone Wanderer.

"For the last time, I have no interest whatsoever in the lives of this pathetic town. I suggest you leave, immediately, before I cut off your arms and beat you until your body is nothing but a mess of flesh and blood for the cannibals to snack on." Instead of looking repulsed Bittercup only inched closer with a look of admiration that hadn't been there before shining in her doe like eyes.

"The pain in your words is like a siren song tailored to my heart!" She gushed and reached out toward the other girl. Sarah anticipated the move and reacted accordingly; she snatched Bittercup's hand, whirled her around, and slammed her against the side of a building. Sarah glared at an approaching villager with loathing which sent him running back where he came from. Turning to the now groaning young woman, she leaned in close and whispered into her ear.

"If you  _ ever _ attempt to touch me again I'll kill you where you stand. I'm not looking for a best friend so keep your goddamned distance. Get it?" Bittercup gave a slight nod and, satisfied, Sarah released her wrist. "Go." With one last look back, Bittercup ran like the devil himself were on her heels. Smirking, the Lone Wanderer settled herself into a corner and tipped the corner of her hat so it shielded her eyes. That night she slept more peacefully than she had in weeks.

The next morning, though, proved to be just one giant headache in the form of Bittercup.

"I was thinking about what you said last night," she said just as Sarah had been leaving Big Town.

As soon as dawn had hit Dusty, the town's entrance guard had asked her to leave. Sarah was more amused than insulted because the guard had tried to put up a brave front, but it was almost painfully obvious that he was more than a little nervous. Probably because he recognized that she could slaughter the whole town without breaking a sweat and laugh while doing it.

"What was there to think about? I thought I had made everything pretty clear last night."

"You did," Bittercup hurriedly agreed. "So, I just wanted to tell you that I think you're right. A long distance relationship would probably be best."  _ What?!  _ Dusty, who had been standing nearby, choked on the water he was drinking. For the first time in her life Sarah was speechless.

"Was she dropped on her head multiple times?" She asked a pale faced Dusty.

"If only it was that easy to explain," he'd muttered and turned back to guarding the bridge. Meanwhile, Bittercup was still prattling on about visiting every week and how even the Wastes couldn't keep them apart.

"I'm going to shoot you if you don't shut up in five seconds," Sarah warned her.

"So you agree? I'm so happy!"

"Five."

"Whenever you visit I'll give you something, kay?"

"Four."

"Just don't forget to think of me while you're off having fun, alright?"

"Three."

"I don't know what I'd do if you did…"

"Two."

"I just might kill myself!" Bitter cup laughed.

"One," Sarah reached for the assault rifle on her back with a gleam in her eyes.

"Bye!" Bittercup wisely wandered away to annoy some other unlucky person.

"That's the happiest I've seen her since the Mutants took Red and Shorty," Dusty remarked. The Lone Wanderer glared and made a mental note to avoid Big Town at all costs in the future.

\------------------------------------

Sarah stood a safe distance away from Paradise Falls with her arms crossed and dark eyes accessing every visible inch of the fortress-like settlement. It was her second day scoping out the place and she had to admit that she was a bit impressed at how smoothly everything ran. Every hour on the hour four raiders would leave the settlement, break into pairs of two, and patrol the outside wall in opposite directions with a small arsenal of weapons on each person.

After both pairs had completed their circuit they would then return and not go back out until the next hour.  _ Smooth,  _ Sarah thought,  _ but too predictable. Good news for me anyway.  _ She was confident that their schedule would remain the same even a week from then so she decided that she would storm the place with no back up and limited supplies that very day.  _ Makes things more interesting this way,  _ she thought and smirked.

Her plan, if it could be called that, was to take them by surprise before the next perimeter check. She would snipe off as many as she could from her position and then take care of the rest by any means necessary. The last caravan owner, Wolfgang, had a medley of creative items to choose from, but were pretty much useless. His mercenary, however, was more than willing to trade his sniper rifle for a couple hundred caps; which was more than a fair trade considering the fact that the next caravan probably wouldn't have wandered by for several more days. A wicked grin spread across her face as she imagined the look of pure chaos that would happen in just a few short minutes.

\------------------------------------

Bullets flew over her head as she ducked behind a twisted piece of metal and slammed another clip into her Chinese assault rifle. A bead of blood and sweat ran down the side of her face from an open gash just below her cheekbone and her legs were screaming with pain. The Lone Wanderer peered around the corner and leapt into action as she saw a couple of open shots.  _ Morons!  _

Side stepping the entire time, she took out three more slave traders before taking cover behind an abandoned vehicle. One of the slavers shouted something at her, but she ignored him as she unlatched a grenade from her belt and chucked it over towards his voice.

The explosion shook the ground and gave Sarah the distraction she needed to hot foot it over to a large metal door. By the time the smoke cleared she was already halfway through the next section and rapidly taking ground. A flash of white hot pain erupted from her side, causing her to gasp and hit the ground hard. She rolled to a stop and hefted herself back onto her feet.

"Sonovabitch!" she cursed and scanned the area quickly for the bastard shot her. A raider wearing animal skins as clothing stood with a hunting rifle in her hands and a maniacal look in her eyes.

"Hit the bitch!" she crowed happily and prepared for another shot. "Get ready to die," the raider sang and aimed for Sarah's head.

"Not without taking you with me," she muttered and readied her own weapon. A bright light exploded and Sarah wondered for a moment if she was actually dead until she recognized the familiar ringing only a flash grenade could create.

"I'm blind!" she heard the female raider cry. "What did you do to me?!" Sarah didn't bother explaining anything because she was just as clueless. Instead she hit the dirt and rolled until she hit something solid. She absolutely loathed flash grenades because they made her feel helpless and stupid; things Sarah knew she wasn't. Several tense seconds passed as her temporary handicap began to fade and her anger grew.  _ Think they can just blind me and get away with it do they? I'll teach those fuckers a thing or two about pissing me off.  _ As soon as her vision cleared Sarah leapt to her feet and knocked the approaching slaver with the butt of her gun. He went down cold, the machete he had been gripping falling from his hands and landing in the dirt beside him.

Just as she turned to take care of the female raider something heavy slammed into her wounded side and made Sarah see stars. Both women rolled, the raider letting out an animal like shriek as Sarah grabbed a handful of hair and yanked hard.  _ Fuck fighting fair.  _ The Lone Wanderer fumbled with the knife sheathed on her belt, unstrapped it, and swiped viciously at her attacker's throat. Blood sprayed out, coated her hair and face with bright crimson, and the raider immediately went limp. Sarah pushed the dead body off of her and stood unsteadily to face whoever was next.

A woman wearing a pink pre-war dress stepped out from behind one of the metal shacks with a sword in her hand and dirty tear streaks running from her eyes.

"You killed her," she said. "You killed Crimson." Sarah pretended to take a moment to seriously consider the slaver's words.

"You must mean the bitch whose blood I'm wearing." Sarah wiped at the liquid still splashed across her face and showed the other woman with a cocky smile. "Crimson, you said? Kind of ironic, huh?"

"She was my kill! Mine! I'll kill you for that!" The Lone Wanderer laughed hard at that.

"Do you actually believe that you stand a chance? Ever heard the saying, 'Don't bring a knife to a gun fight' bitch?"

"Shut up! I'll carve out your insides and give them to Eulogy as a gift!" she screamed and charged. The fight was short, over in seconds, and hardly memorable. The woman in pink made an admirable effort but was no match against an assault rifle. 

Sarah walked away from the bloody mess with a slightly used sword swinging at her hips. As there seemed to be no immediate threats she took a moment to use a few Stimpaks on her more serious wounds and re-check her ammunition supplies. 

_ Only a few more bullets left... Guess I better ditch the gun now and grab it later.  _ Sarah tossed the useless Chinese rifle near a lamp post and searched a dead raider's body for another gun.

She scavenged a relatively nice handgun and a couple clips of ammo before approaching a building named 'Eulogy's Pad'. Sarah scoffed at the name and shoved open the double doors like she owned the place.

\------------------------------------

"Where is it?!"

"Why the fuck is it so important to you? You're fucking insane!"

"You should know it's not exactly smart to call your enslaver crazy, Eulogy." Sarah sneered and jabbed the blade at Eulogy's throat harder into his skin. "Now, I'll ask you once more: Where is IT?!" They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity; Eulogy's hands tied behind his back, lying on the heart shaped bed in his quarters, with Sarah straddling him. The sexual situation wasn't lost on either of them, but only Eulogy seemed dumb enough to comment on it.

"I've had a lot of women on this bed-"

"Shut up before I rip off your penis and shove it up your own ass. Now, tell me what I want to know."

"Fine, crazy whore. It's next to my terminal in the corner. Over there." He motioned with his eyes to a spot behind her. Sarah smirked and climbed off the man to inspect a metal desk that was shoved against the far wall. True to his word what she had traveled across the Wasteland sat in perfect condition beside the terminal. She snatched it and quickly entered the precious item into her Pip-Boy for safe keeping. "Thanks, Eulogy; it's been a real pleasure."

"I would've just given it to you if you'd fucking asked. Not like it holds much sentimental value or anything." Eulogy sat up and looked at her with appreciation. "I'm real impressed that you managed to take on my entire operation single handedly." He admitted with some surprise. "More impressed than pissed off anyway. Did you have to kill everyone? Do you know how hard it was to gather those dirtbags? Now I have to start again from scratch..." Eulogy muttered. "Ever think about joining the slave trading business? I can already tell you that you'd get the top spot."

"Hate to break it to you, but I'm a bit occupied right now. Don't worry though, you won't have to worry about starting up a new gang any time soon."

A shiver ran down the dark man's spine. "What do you mean by that?" he asked with as much nonchalance he could muster. Sarah faced him with a wicked look in her eyes and approached him slowly, the sword in her hand dragging ominously behind her. "You know, I have some connections with Tenpenny Tower... I can- No, please!"  _ Too late.  _ Sarah sliced his head clean off, turned her back to him, and left Eulogy's Pad with a smile.

\------------------------------------

Sarah dragged her feet through the gates of Megaton, glaring darkly at anyone who stepped in her way.  _ All I want to do is go home and sleep for a week.  _ The trip from Paradise Falls had been hell thanks to the still healing wound on her side and the general hellish heat.  _ Home sweet home, _ she thought and sighed.

"Haven't seen you around lately."

"I'm not in the mood to have a pissing match with you right now." But Sarah stopped and folded her arms, she knew better than to mess with the town's beloved Sheriff. The large black man just grinned at her and mirrored her stance.

"Just making an observation."

"Keep your observations to yourself."

"I like you girly, but that doesn't mean I won't shoot you if you cause any trouble. You know that right?"

"Just like I know it would take a lot more heat than your packing to take me down? Yeah."

"Always expect the unexpected, girly. I could tell a few stories that would make even your stone, cold heart shake."

"Oh? Meet me at dusk at Moriarty's; you're not the only one who can tell a story." And after the week she suffered through, Sarah could slam back a couple drinks.

"Honey, if you're buying I'd meet you at the moon." She nodded and passed the sheriff towards her home. This time Wadsworth was around to see her limp inside.

"Good evening, Madam! It's good to see you alive and well!" He greeted. "Well, it's good to see you anyway." He amended as he took in her cuts and bruises. "May I suggest that you seek medical attention as soon as possible?" For once Sarah couldn't find the strength to argue.

"Later," was all she said before heading upstairs. Instead of going to her bedroom, though, she veered off towards a small display tucked safely out of Wadsworth's reach. Sarah took a moment to admire her steadily growing collection of treasure before programming her Pip-Boy to spit out the item she had killed so many for. She turned the item around, examined every centimeter of it, and then placed it gently with the others. Thirteen figures stared at her with black, lifeless eyes and posed with an object in their hands. Sarah smiled proudly at the newest addition: the Speech Bobblehead. "'Let words be your weapon,'" she read. "Fuck that."  _ Still... _

The Lone Wanderer glanced at the Medicine bobble head that started it all; the one she had swiped from her father's desk the day she escaped from Vault 101. The loneliness she had battled with since then crept up on her and threatened to choke her with tears she refused to shed.  _ Why, dad? Why did you leave me all alone?  _ She pushed the palms of her hands roughly against her moist eyes.  _ No, I don't need you. Not anymore...  _ Sarah let out one last shaky breath and headed for her bedroom, intent on catching some sleep before her rendezvous with Simms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was written in 2010. I've tweaked it a bit to correct a few spelling errors and adjust some of the wording to hopefully make it flow better but it is pretty close to the original content I'd written in 2010.


End file.
